


Root and Shaw are Absolutely, Definitely, Unquestionably Not Getting Married

by BiJane



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Marriage Proposal, Root is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 05:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiJane/pseuds/BiJane
Summary: Root proposed just to tease Shaw; Shaw said yes just to catch Root off-guard.One of them's going to back down first, right?





	Root and Shaw are Absolutely, Definitely, Unquestionably Not Getting Married

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm Jane and I write ridiculous things.  
> I thought I'd moved on from PoI fic but then this idea happened and here we are. 
> 
> (Also, side note, on the off-chance any of you also read my Canaryverse, the latest fic's been delayed. I was almost done when my hard drive got corrupted and I've got to start from scratch, but it is coming eventually). 
> 
> Anyway, onto Shoot!

Root’s company was enjoyable sometimes, not that Shaw would ever admit it. The rest of the time, though…

Shaw fired twice, ducking behind a wall for cover. These were the times she could have fun; she liked the challenge of a good gunfight, and she’d always be glad to have Root in her corner. She didn’t need a voice in her ear to guess what Root was going to do.

Shaw stepped out from her cover, and shot twice more. Someone yelped, going down.

Most things seemed to devolve into a shoot-out lately. She wasn’t exactly complaining-

“Duck!” Root shouted.

Quickly, Shaw obeyed. She knew to trust Root’s judgement; she bent forwards, pressing her hands to the floor, ready to spring up again.

Bullets whistled over her back, and someone else cried out. There was a second of silence.

“Stay in that position a little longer?” Root said, behind her, cocking her head to the side and regarding her view.

Shaw rolled her eyes, pushing herself back up. She glanced back, and rolled her eyes.  

“What?” Root said. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Time and a place, Root,” Shaw said.

“Spoilsport.”

Root flashed a grin that absolutely should not have been endearing, then started running. Immediately Shaw was at her side.

There was a small gang targeting their latest number, and by her count there was one unaccounted for. The Machine could lead Root to the right place, though.

“This way!”

Then they were out on the street. Shaw kept her gun to her side, barely paying attention to anything except where Root was going. She knew the drill.

Track down the last target, incapacitate, head back to-

Root ducked sideways into a shop. Shaw followed without a second glance, faltering after a good few steps indoors. She was pretty sure a florist’s was unlikely to be where the target was hanging out.

Root had come to a stop, appraising a row of flowers.

“What would you prefer?” Root said. “Roses? Cliché, I know, but clichés are cliché for a reason.”

“ _Root_ ,” Shaw said.

“Something wrong?” Root said sweetly.

“ _Time and a place_ ,” Shaw said, staccato. “Besides, you know I’m not interested in that mushy stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah, big tough badass with a great ass, I remember,” Root said. “Still, never hurts to try-”

“Aren’t we meant to be looking for someone?” Shaw interrupted.

Hopefully that would change the topic back to-

“Oh, right,” Root said.

She lifted one of her guns and fired out the window behind her without even turning to look. A motorcycle suddenly careened into a wall, occupant stumbling away.

Trust Root. She probably had the Machine feed her the timetable. She really could be unbearable; hot, but unbearable.

* * *

Some dates Shaw didn’t mind. Mostly they involved food. It was a good couple of weeks before either of them had the time to head out for dinner, though.

It was a slightly higher brow place than Shaw usually preferred, but Root was paying so she wasn’t going to complain.

She ordered, and sat with Root, trying to ignore Root’s grin. That rarely meant something good.

Still, a good meal could distract from most things. She’d almost forgotten to be wary by the time she finished her main course, and-

Root stood up, getting the attention of the restaurant. Shaw blinked.

“Hey,” Root said. “I’ve been seeing my girlfriend for- well, we disagree on when it was we started dating, but it’s been a fair while, and it’s been the best time of my life. I just want everyone to know how much I love her.”

What.

“So, what do you think?” Root said. She got down onto one knee, pulling something out from her pocket. “Sameen Shaw, will you marry me?”

_What._

Shaw just about suppressed the urge to get up and walk out. She knew what that little smirk of Root’s meant; she did so love to push. She wasn’t serious, just pretending to be.

Shaw glared. Root continued to smile, looking almost innocent.

There was no reason to not say no and just walk out; it wasn’t as though it would bother Shaw. Then again, it would be fun to get one up on Root sometime.

She knew what Root was expecting, and the fastest way to wipe that half-endearing, half-irritating grin off her face would be to do the opposite.

“Yes,” Shaw said.

Root faltered.

“What?” Root said.

“I said yes,” Shaw said. “Something wrong?”

Seeing that look on Root’s face was far too satisfying.

* * *

After the joke at the restaurant had gone awry, Root had quickly hurried out to get a ring that matched Shaw’s as much as possible. It seemed only fitting.

If that was the game Shaw wanted to play, she could play it too.

“Guys!” she said cheerily, “Big news!”

Both Harold and Reese were by the computer, and both turned as she approached, waving her hand in front of her.

Shaw rolled her eyes, taking a couple of steps away to emphasize that she wanted no part of Root’s little display.

To their credit, Reese and Harold curtailed their dumbfounded stares after just a couple of seconds.

“That’s- um,” Reese began. He coughed. “So who’s the…”

“Sameen,” Root said.

Root sidled closer for a moment, catching Shaw by a surprise with an arm over her shoulders. She continued beaming.

“I asked her today,” Root said, waggling her fingers again.

“And she said _yes_?” Reese said, after a moment.

“Yep,” Root said. “Why wouldn’t she?”

Reese hesitated. Rather bravely, Harold broke the silence.

“I think what Mr Reese is trying to say,” Harold said, “Is that we didn’t know the two of you were… serious.”

“Of course we are Harry,” Root said. “Ever since the CIA safehouse. It’s what love stories are built on; hoods and zip ties.”

She sighed wistfully. Rather suddenly Harold’s eyes went wide.

“Just wanted to let you know you’re invited,” Root said. “Haven’t set a date yet, but figured we should tell you. That ok Sameen?”

She glanced sideways, challenging. Shaw schooled her expression.

“Absolutely.”

It was a moment before Root’s grin returned. She kept up the mildly saccharine expression until Shaw had left, at which point she sat down and relaxed.

Soon it was just her and Harold, and Harold seemed to want to say something. Still, he hesitated.

“Uh, Miss Groves,” Harold began.

“Yes?”

“Are you…” Harold fell silent again.

“You can say it,” Root said.

“Are you… actually…”

“Nope,” Root said. “Just fun seeing how far she’s going to take this.”

Harold hesitated for a moment more, before mentally throwing his hands up in the air. Apparently he’d given up trying to figure out Root and Shaw.

“Could you do me a favour?” Root said.

“…Perhaps,” Harold said.

“Relax, it’s simple,” Root said. “Just get ordained online, print out the certificate or whatever that you get, make sure she sees it. That’ll probably be enough.”

“You want me to perform the…”

“You made god, it kinda makes sense,” Root said. “But don’t go getting any ideas. Like I said, it’s not happening.”

Root shifted, getting more comfortable in her chair. The Machine hadn’t commented on her latest bit of flirtation.

“You asked Miss Shaw to marry you,” Harold said, slowly.

“As a joke,” Root said. “She thought she could surprise me by saying yes, but I’m not going to back down that easily. Sameen’s not going to go through with it.”

* * *

It was meant to just be a one-time joke. She caught Root by surprise, then they left the restaurant, and there was no need to bring it up again.

How did she always underestimate how unbearable Root could be?

“Big white wedding, do you think?” Root said, sitting herself down next to Shaw.

“No,” Shaw said.

“Aww, backing out?” Root said.

Shaw paused. Well it wasn’t as though Root was the type for domestic bliss either; for all her teasing she’d be just as out-of-place there as Shaw would be. Root would never seriously go through with this.

So why act otherwise?

Shaw gritted her teeth for a moment, then let herself relax.

“We don’t know that many people,” Shaw said. “So, no. No big wedding.”

“True,” Root said. She tilted her head; “You could invite some of your old ISA friends.”

“Sure that’d go down well,” Shaw said.

“Boring,” Root said. “What kind of wedding doesn’t end in a shoot-out?”

Shaw rolled her eyes.

“What about Gen?” Root said. “You seemed to get along with her. She’d make a good flower girl.”

How far _was_ Root going to take this? Shaw hesitated only briefly.

Bringing other people into this was probably where Root expected to lose her; it was a whole other step.

That little display with Harold and Reese was one thing, but they knew the two of them well enough to know it wasn’t going to happen. They’d had front row seats to Root’s playfulness before. Bringing in someone else…

Still, Shaw had her pride.

“Ok,” Shaw said. “Think she’d like that.”

“Who’d you want for Maid of Honor?” Root said.

Shaw shrugged.

“You’re not being very helpful,” Root said.

“I don’t do weddings,” Shaw said, “I don’t know who does what.”

“Maid of Honor’s meant to be the bride’s closest friend,” Root said.

“That’s you,” Shaw said without thinking. “Doesn’t help.”

Root’s grin became so wide Shaw wasn’t entirely sure how it still fit on her face.

“Aww, sweet,” Root said. She tilted her head, grin becoming lopsided. “You like me.”

“We’re getting married, Root.”

“Right, we are,” Root said, straightening. She seemed slightly surprised; then, masking any uncertainty, hurried on. “So, Maid of Honor’s meant to plan things. Bachelorette etc-”

“Zoe,” Shaw said.

Depending on how far Root was going to take this, Shaw wanted to at least get the benefit of a party thrown by Zoe. She had the feeling it’d be fun.

“I wanted Zoe,” Root pouted. “Can we share?”

“Sure,” Shaw said, tiredly. “Double up the roles, we might actually get enough people.”

“Then there’s the bridesmaids-”

“Harold, Reese, Fusco,” Shaw said. “Are we done yet?”

“I wanted Harry for minister,” Root said. “Easy to get ordained online. Well, he was my second choice, but I’m not sure She can really do it.”

Shaw raised her eyebrows; Root had put a lot of thought into this. Then, Shaw shrugged, of course she had. Whatever Root was, she wasn’t someone that rushed things.

“Fine, whatever,” Shaw said.

“Bear can be ringbearer,” Root said.

“That I can get behind,” Shaw said.

“Right,” Root said.

She paused, regarding Shaw for a long few moments.

“I’ll arrange for us to take a look at a few venues next week,” Root said.

Shaw didn’t react. Root frowned.

“And for dress-fitting-”

“You can wear a dress if you want,” Shaw said. “I’m not.”

“Tux then?” Root said, tilting her head. “You’d look good in a suit.”

“Maybe,” Shaw said.

“If you say yes I’ll let you pick the flower arrangements,” Root said.

Shaw slumped. Beaming, Root shuffled closer.

“Something wrong?” Root said. “If it’s too big a step-”

_Nice try_.

“No, all good here,” Shaw said. “Why, you trying to back out?”

She met Root’s eyes. Quickly, Root stiffened, and started smiling again.

“I’m hurt you’d suggest such a thing, Sameen,” she said.

* * *

Shaw would admit, it was going further than she’d expected. They’d picked a venue (a restaurant with nice food and a good view of the skyline; even Shaw would admit she liked it), set a date (two months, plenty of time for Root to give in), and put down an alarming amount of deposits.

Zoe was in, though Shaw was pretty sure she just wanted to enjoy the chaos. She’d seen Harold’s credentials, and Reese and Fusco had tentatively freed themselves up on the date in question.

A month on, and Shaw was starting to realise Root would probably drag this out to the day itself.

Which meant she’d have to talk to Gen.

She arranged a meeting soon enough, running into the girl just outside the boarding school Harold was paying for.

“You free in a month?” Shaw said.

“Probably,” Gen said. “Why?”

“Could do with you at my wedding,” Shaw said absently. “Root thinks you’d be a good flower girl, and I thought you’d want to come.”

“You’re getting married?” Gen said, blinking.

“No,” Shaw said. “Having a wedding, won’t actually be getting married.”

“What?”

“It’s all a game,” Shaw said. “Root likes to play them, see how far it’ll go, if I’ll give in before her… She might not make it to the day, but if she does you should be there.”

“Why?” Gen said.

She looked up at sure, with a keenness in her eyes Shaw wasn’t sure she liked.

“If it’s not real,” Gen said, “Why invite me? It shouldn’t matter whether or not I’m there.”

“Have to act like I’m going through with it,” Shaw said. “Root suggested it.”

“Why does _she_ want it to be so realistic?”

“It’s what she does,” Shaw said. “Acts like a pain, push things as far as they can go. This time she’ll be the one that gives in.”

* * *

The weeks went by worryingly quickly, and Root suddenly found herself walking down the aisle. A slightly tinny recording of a wedding march played.

It wasn’t exactly an aisle admittedly, just a cleared out stretch of floor, but Shaw was standing at the far end by the floor-to-ceiling window.

It wasn’t busy. It was almost a shame how small a crowd they had; still, it was enough to see Shaw in a suit standing there. She looked mildly impatient.

Root flashed her a smile; it wouldn’t be too much longer before she won. Shaw couldn’t hold out much more.

At some point over the months it had gone from a playful joke to an outright challenge.

She reached the end of the aisle, turning and looking Shaw right in the eye. Neither blinked; both stared.

“Dearly beloved…” Harold began, recounting the usual.

Neither of them had vows. They’d opted not to include them as part of the ceremony; Shaw wasn’t one to express herself, and she also didn’t particularly trust what Root would say. Root would admit, she had a point.

Root waited out the speech, raising her eyebrows as Harold reached the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace.’

Shaw fidgeted slightly, but stayed silent. Huh. Root would have expected that to be the point Shaw ended this. Ah well.

It was hard not to be a little nervous at how far this had gone on for. It wasn’t as though she was necessarily complaining about the prospect of being married to Shaw, but this had never been about the wedding.

“Do you, Sameen Shaw, take-”

Root briefly looked away from, well, her fiancée to glance at Harold.  

“Take Root to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Harold finished smoothly.

“I do,” Shaw said.

Then Shaw met Root’s eyes with a silent _your turn_.

“And do you, Root, take Sameen Shaw to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Oh, there was no way Shaw was going to go further than her.

“I do,” Root said, meeting Shaw’s eyes with a just-as-silent _so there_.

There was a moment of silence. It took Root a couple of seconds to mentally go over the ceremony in her head, trying to gauge how much was left-

Wait.

“Uh,” Harold cleared his throat. He glanced to the audience.

_Wait_.

“Then I now pronounce you wife and wife,” Harold said, questioningly. “You may kiss the bride?”

Root blinked; Shaw stared.

“This is your fault,” Shaw said, flatly. 

Root paused, still somehow going over the ceremony in her head. Huh. Maybe there _wasn’t_ any more.

“You said yes,” Root said.

“You _proposed_ ,” Shaw said.

“You said ‘I do,’” Root said.

“You said it last.”

“You said it _first_.”

There were a few more seconds of silence. Then, Shaw rolled her eyes, grabbed Root by her hair, and pulled her closer for a kiss that was mostly biting.

In the audience Gen was smiling, until Fusco covered her eyes.

* * *

The reception was quiet, but Shaw was glad she’d had the forethought to arrange for drinks.

_Wife_. She wasn’t certain it suited her. Then again-

“Very funny,” Shaw said, once she was alone with Root.

“What?” Root said. She still seemed slightly shell-shocked.

“Finch,” Shaw said. “The certificate, it wasn’t real was it?”

“What?”

“It’s why you took it this far,” Shaw said. “Just trying to frighten me, when you knew there was no way this’d be real.”

“I-” Root said, and faltered.

Shaw blinked.

“They were _real_?” Shaw said.

Root nodded.

“Why did you get him ordained for _real_?” Shaw said.

“I thought it’d make me win, once you saw,” Root said.

Shaw gulped her drink down.

“So… we’re really married?” Shaw said.

“Looks it,” Root said.

“Huh.”

“So,” Root said. “Honeymoon sex?”

Shaw glared.

“Angry sex?” she said, just as hopefully.

“ _Root_.”

Shaw unbuttoned her shirt slightly, fidgeting in the stiff formalwear.

There had been a few seconds of fun, at least. That look on Root’s face at the ‘I do,’ clearly going further than Root had expected. And ok, the sight of Root in her wedding dress wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

Out of everyone in the world, Root was probably the least unbearable person to m-

“You know, it’s technically not legal until we sign the register,” Root said. “You can still back out.”

“You first,” Shaw said, meeting her eyes with a smirk.

“Aww, sweetie,” Root said, “You know I don’t give in that easily.”


End file.
